


Watched You Fall Into My Arms

by NeneDiallo



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, In Time - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 16:11:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3215375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeneDiallo/pseuds/NeneDiallo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In 2169, people are born genetically engineered with a digital clock on their forearm. When they turn 25 years old, they stop aging and their clock begins counting down from one year; when it reaches zero that person "times out" and dies instantly. Time has become the universal currency; it is used to pay for day-to-day expenses and can be transferred between people or capsules. The country has been divided into "time zones" based on the wealth of the population. There are ten of them, but two are most important. The richest live in New Greenwich where people have more time than they need.  The poor live in Dayton where people never have enough time.<br/>Jordan and Lydia live in Dayton.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watched You Fall Into My Arms

_“I had to leave earlier. Didn’t want to wake you up (you looked adorable with your open mouth, drooling). I gave you 30 minutes for lunch. Remember tomorrow, bus stop at 9,_ _don’t be late!_

_PS. Happy Third-Year Anniversary!”_

Jordan’s finger trailed over the pink mark on the piece of sheet, wide smile appearing on his face. He closed his eyes bringing the note to his mouth, his lips touching the place Lydia had kissed.

He couldn’t suppress a chuckle at the cheesiness of his gesture.

The strawberry blonde was turning him into a teenager, a youngster who had fallen in love for the first time. His cheeks reddened when she said something flattering, he forgot how to produce words when he saw her, his eyes not able to adjust to the her beauty.

It felt like he was back in seventh grade.

The only thing reminding him he was no longer a careless kid was the clock on his hand.

0000-00-0-23-48-24

It was 23 now, no 22.

The gleaming digits changing in a painfully quick way.

Jordan’s eyes lingered on the frozen zeros.

He wondered what it would be like if there weren’t just empty circles. What if they were numbers.

He wasn’t even thinking about having fifty years, he didn’t dare to. But five years, even two would be enough.

Enough for Lydia to quit the inhuman-houred job, for her to not have to leave home for two days. It would be enough for them to get the hell out of the damn Ghetto, enough for him to give Lydia everything she deserved, enough for them to have the baby they dreamed of.

But these were dreams.

Reality was here, right on his hand, written in between the gleaming numbers.

There was no time. There was no time to wonder how it happened. It was what it was.

You obeyed or you died.

And dying wasn’t an option.

With that thought lingering in his mind Jordan jumped out of bed, sprinting towards the bathroom.

Over the years he mastered the art of rapid multitasking. Brushing his teeth while simultaneously taking a shower and making breakfast? Plain sailing. Dressing up, eating scrambled eggs and dipping into the constantly growing pile of bills? A walk in a park.

The practice made him perfect and that perfection allowed him to get to the factory exactly five minutes before the start of the shift.

Jordan walked quickly through the corridors, ignoring the scent of rottenness filling the entire building.

What he couldn’t look pass was the dead body laying on the ground. The numbers on the man’s arm black, all turned to zeros.

He was wearing the same uniform as Jordan, it wasn’t hard for him to imagine himself in the place of the dead body.

It was surprisingly easy.

-Come on, Parrish- a familiar voice snapped him out of his thought, a hand patting his back.

He turned around, eyeballing Derek, the only person besides Lydia, Jordan thought of as a friend.

The man looked tired, dark circles under his eyes, the amount of grey strands decorating his dark hair growing with every day.

That’s what spending forty years in the Ghetto did to you. It enfeebled you.

“And turned you into an addict”, Jordan added in his mind noticing the always present flask picking out of Derek’s uniform.

God, he had to get Lydia out of here.

“Let’s go” Jordan shook his head not letting the feeling in his stomach elaborate.

He’d figure out something eventually but not now. Now was the time to earn some more minutes for him and his love to at least be able to have some dinner eat the next day.

“Time to earn some time” Derek mumbled, taking one more sip from the flask before the two entered the assembly plant.

Jordan couldn’t have said it any better.

                                                                                                                                       ***

Drops of sweat.

There were actual drops of sweat running down her forehead.

Lydia took a deep breath, resisting the urge of running a hand over her forehead.

First she had to finish.

The girl’s green eyes glanced at equally green numbers shining on her skin.

She had no time to dry her forehead.

She had no time at all.

                                                                                                                                       ***

“Wait, what is this? Where’s the rest?” Jordan stopped short, looking at his watch.

“I don’t know, I only give the money” the time distributor answered, not even trying to seem mildly interested, looking at the machine he’d worked on.

“My units are off from last week” Jordan still hadn’t moved, his eyes fixed on the obnoxious jerk, green pupils burning holes in the man’s face.

“I suggest you report it to your supervisor and get the hell out of here” the threatening note in the distributor’s voice made Parrish clench his hands into fists and walk away.  
It was better to earn a pittance than get fired. Getting fired meant death and anything was better than death.

“We need a drink Parrish, wanna go to Glades?” Derek asked the minute Jordan reached him.

He was about to say “no” when he heard the “on my check” addition.

“Can’t say no to tequila bought by you” Parrish shrugged hoping maybe alcohol would somehow help. It couldn’t exactly exacerbate.

Not, as long as it wasn’t him who had to pay for it.

                                                                                                                                     ***

Alcohol could exacerbate a hell of a lot.

Even if it wasn’t Jordan who paid for it.

Alcohol was the reason he was stuck in an abandoned house with a gang of fucking time-stealers chasing him.

He glared at the man sitting on the tiny sofa opposite him with the stupidest grin on his face.

He was the reason they were stuck in an abandoned house with a gang of fucking time-stealers chasing them.

Parrish knew the minute something was fishy when he saw the blond-haired guy sitting in Glades surrounded by three well-known prostitutes.

His hair was too blonde, eyes too green and suit too fancy and expensive for the Ghetto. He was just too everything for the Ghetto.

Yet, Jordan did not expect the mysterious guy to be from Greenwich and have more than a century on his clock.

A century.

Something Jordan couldn’t even imagine having.

And he was spending it so carelessly, paying for five rounds for everyone in a row.

Henry Hamilton, as the man was called (least that’s Jordan assumed after he heard him scream that to practically everyone who cared to listen) wasn’t the epitome of discreet so nobody was shocked when Fortis and his gang of time or rather life-thieves showed up and decided to “borrow” his watch as they liked to poetically put it.

What was a surprise, especially to Parrish, was the fact that he helped the rich man escape from the gang.

Maybe the discussion over who had to be blamed for being stuck in an abandoned house should be reopened.

“Can you at least pretend you’re terrified? What the hell were you even thinking? Shoving this up everyone’s throat” Jordan pointed at the digits on the Henry’s hand, the vomit of angry words escaping his mouth as the noises outside slowly trailed away.

“Did I ask you to save me?” the British accent sounding clear, the words making Parrish cringe.

Of course he was a typical rich asshole.

But he had to admit, the asshole did have a point.

“No, I suppose I’m just too decent to let even a someone like you die from Fortis’ hands” bits of venom spiced up the truth Jordan revealed.

“You’re definitely too decent for the Ghetto”

“How typical of you” venom again making its way to Jordan’s lips, this time the amount of so big Henry Hamilton noticed it. His eyebrows raised as the younger man continued “Everyone outside Greenwich is a murderer, rapist or a drug dealer”

“You said it” Hamilton shrugged, his eyes looking at something behind the windowpane.

“What were you trying to say then?” Jordan asked, collapsed on the battered armchair across from the couch the Greenwich resident sat on.

“I was trying to say that I’m surprised you haven’t stolen my time yourself”

Jordan’s mouth went slightly agape but no words came out.

He was right.

He could steal his time

He could end Hamilton’s life to finally start living his own with Lydia.

Except that he couldn’t.

And he wouldn’t.

“I’m kinda surprised too, one fifth of your time would solve all of my problems” Jordan figured if they were stuck here for the rest of the night, he could as well put his hearts on the table. Or at least some parts of them.

“Yeah fancy suits, cars, casinos. Living forever in luxury. Sounds perfect” Henry’s words enjoying the company of irony bits.

“God, you have no idea what you have, don’t you?” Jordan’s voice raised against his own will, his body tensing up immediately “For you it’s just things you can, food you can eat and for us? For us, it’s everything. It’s the bills we can’t afford to pay, the food we have to steal, the crazy amount of hours we have to work without a break, the dreams that will never come true because we’ll die sooner. That’s what this is”

His breathing was fast, his burning eyes fixed on the man opposite him who remained calm during his entire outburst.

“So who is she, the one you’re in love with?” Henry finally spoke making Parrish look at him, his green eyes only slightly widened, his fingers still trembling with anger.

“Come on, we’re stuck in here so we might as well talk” Hamilton pulled out a grey, no a silver flask from his now out the window suit, taking a deep sip from it “Want some? It’ll loosen your mouth a bit”

As he offered Jordan some of it, he couldn’t say “no”. It wasn’t often he tasted something that wasn’t made in the Ghetto. However, as soon as the liquid made contact with his tongue he realized that it was even more disgusting than the alcohol Derek maniacally drank.

Jordan handed the flask back, meeting Henry’s pending stare.

Hearts on the table it was then.

“Lydia, her name’s Lydia”

“You’re really not the talkative type, now are you?” Henry’s eyebrows shot to the sky, the gesture accompanying the snort escaping his lips. “How did you two meet?”

“I met her when I was still a deputy” Jordan answer was reluctant and the young men immediately knew Henry was not satisfied. With a heavy sigh he continued “ I was the one sent to patrol the prom” warmth spread around his body as the image of some freshman spilling out his punch on Lydia’s dress reappeared in his mind. The moment the strawberry blonde desperately asked him to help her remove the stains, he had the feeling the prom wasn’t going to be just another night on duty. And much to his own happiness he wasn’t mistaken.

“So you met her on her prom night?” Henry asked bringing Jordan’s mind back to the abandoned loft “Sounds a bit cheesy”

“Because it was a cheesy” Parrish’s lips twisted in a smile, as he remembered how Lydia always said she they met in the most cliché possible way. There was bumping into someone, falling into deputy’s arms, there was fingers brushing each other while cleaning the stains together.

Everything screamed cheesy and cliché.

But Jordan liked it. It was the closest they could get to a movie-like life. A life with no fear of tomorrow, with no clocks. A life with just them and their cheesy love story.

“How long have you been together”

“Three years. I know it doesn’t seem like a long time compared with this” Jordan pointed at the digits on Hamilton’s hand, this time no anger in his voice, just regret and disappointment “But believe those were the best three years of my life. Better than the ones I spent not caring about the clock that wasn’t even on”

“I get it”

“You do?” Jordan’s eyebrows raise unconsciously, his tone colored with doubt.

“I’ve lived for more than a century and I’ve met who’s relationships were older than me but none of those people looked like you” sadness washed over Henry’s feature blurring the nonchalance “Your eyes shine when you talk about her. Even though I’ve never met this girl I already feel like your Lydia is the most amazing creature in this and probably any other world” Henry finished with a quiet chuckle.

“She is” the smile on Jordan’s face widened, his teeth fully showing.

Henry watched the young man’s face, something inside of him broke a little. He learned to ignore the feeling of emptiness which accompanied him in every single moment of his life but facing Jordan Parrish made ignoring no longer an option. He had to face the truth.

He’d had more than a century of existence yet he never really lived.

He was blank when the kid opposite him shined brighter than anyone he’d ever seen.

“You should appreciate this” he watched Jordan pointing at the clock gleaming on his forearm- And you should start using it.

“You would, wouldn’t you?”

“I sure as hell wouldn’t waste it”

That Henry Hamilton was sure of.

Jordan Parrish wouldn’t waste any time.

So he certainly wouldn’t waste his time.

                                                                                                                                     ***

God, was she tired.

Lydia’s fingers trembling, eyes practically closed, legs so weak she didn’t know how she got to the room which served as hers every time she had to work for two days straight.  
She was exhausted.

But that didn’t worry Lydia much.

No her entire worry was channeled at the twining in her stomach.

It started two days ago and hadn’t stopped ever since.

She just hoped everything was alright.

                                                                                                                                     ***

“That’s it”, Henry thought to himself as he stood up, his eyes fixed on sleeping Jordan.

He quietly tiptoed towards the door suddenly turning around.

He couldn’t leave without a word.

Henry walked to the window his fingers sliding over the dirty glass.

Hamilton glanced at the message, a sad smile making its way to his features.

With a deep breath he started slowly backing off, his eyes never leaving the sentence on the window.

Finally he felt like he did something good, like he really lived.

And it was about goddamn time.

                                                                                                                                    ***

The pain woke her up.

Her stomach was burning.

Tears appeared in Lydia’s eyes as another wave of pain washed through her body.

With eyes only half-opened she glanced first at the clock next to her bed then at the one gleaming on her hand.

It was 8 am, and she had only 13 hours on her clock.

If she skipped work she wasn’t sure if they’d have something to eat the next day. But she couldn’t go. She had to go to the doctors. She needed to know if everything was fine.  
God, she hopes it was.

                                                                                                                                   ***

Jordan’s eyes flew open just when the peaceful dream he had turned into a brutal nightmare. His dark pupils dilated as he frantically looked around the room he was in.

It took his mind about ten seconds to remember how he got there last night. It took another ten for him to realize something was missing.

Well, not something.

Someone.

Henry Hamilton.

Jordan stood up, his eyes looking for some evidence of Fortis’ gang’s presence but he didn’t find them. Not to mention he was one big evidence of their absence because they would in no way let him survive after what he did. Fortis wasn’t a man of forgiveness and grace.

His former deputy skills started kicking in, leading him towards the only window in the room. The footsteps on the wooden floor weren’t that visible but years of working by the Sheriff’s side did teach him some tricks.

Those tricks were what made him spot the writing on the fogged pane.

“Don’t waste my time. Spend it on love.”

Those two sentences made Jordan freeze, only to make him rip his jacket off of himself.

The exposed skin on his hand was as always glowing with the lightest shade of green but something was different.

The zeros.

The zeros were gone.

Gone and replaced by time.

An entire century, right there on his hand.

But if he had that century, Henry Hamilton had…

Nothing.

Henry had nothing left.

Jordan rushed out of the abandoned flat with the speed of light. He stormed down the stairs, his mind running on all cylinders. The storm of thoughts fogged up his mind so much he almost missed the silhouette on the bridge.

Almost but when he noticed Henry it was already too late. His body doubled over in the most unnatural way and then he fell. Like a thrown stone, straight into the river.  
Jordan saw it, he heard the splash of water yet he still ran towards Henry. He ran to the brigde, leaned out only to see the grayness of the water turning into intense crimson as Henry’s blood spread around the river.

God, he killed himself.

Jordan covered his mouth with his palm, his fingers trembling.

Henry Hamilton killed himself.

He outed his clock

Why?

For who?

And just then Jordan thought of Henry’s message written on the window.

He did it for him.

For him and Lydia.

Jordan felt his heart clenching as his eyes watered. One single tear streamed down his face and fell into the river which became Henry’s grave.

“Thank you” Jordan whispered so quietly he didn’t even hear himself “I won’t waste it”

                                                                                                                                 ***

Lydia walked out of the doctors, the tiniest smile appeared on her face. The smile was widening with every step she took and it turned into a full beam when she reached the bus stop.

Everything was fine.

It was more than fine.

She couldn’t wait to tell Jordan.

Lydia was imagining herself telling Jordan the news, his face lightening, eyes watering. How he’d hug her and tell her he loved her.

Their life wasn’t a walk in a park, it couldn’t be further from one but she didn’t want the reality of Dayton to ruin the moment they had been waiting for for such a long time.  
Dreams didn’t come true for people like them. They simply didn’t. But somehow the impossible had happened and Lydia intended to make sure nobody would take that away from her and Jordan.

The strawberry blonde engrossed in her thoughts waited few more minutes until the bus finally arrived. As soon as the vehicle stopped the raging crowd started jumping in, Lydia stepped aside. She was told to be careful and getting elbowed multiple times wasn’t the epitome of cautiousness.

She was patiently waiting, glancing from time to time worried the night coach might have reached its busload.

When it was finally her turn to get in, she walked up the stairs smiling politely at the usually broody bus driver.  
“Hi Dave” she said uncovering her wrist to pay for the ticket.

She raised her head to smile at the man, feeling he could use some of her good mood but something made the muscles in her face freeze.

2 hours.

The ticket costed 2 hours.

“Dave, what’s this?”

The driver only raised his eyebrows at Lydia’s question, clearly not bothering with providing a verbal answer. His eyes followed Lydia’s and laid on the digits on the display.  
“The price” he grumbled like it was the most obvious thing.

“It’s always been an hour” Lydia continued, the pitch of her voice getting higher this time.

“Well, now it’s two. Price went up”

“Since when?”

“Since today”

Lydia glanced down at her hand praying for a miracle. Of course it didn’t come. She still had only one hour and a half left. She used her the rest of the time to pay the doctor.

“I’m meeting Jordan at the station. He’ll pay the difference”

“Can’t do that. Policy” Dave shook his head, his eyes never meeting Lydia’s.

Panic was washing through Lydia’s body, consuming the joy she’d felt inch by inch. Her happy bubble disappeared and reality was ready to catch up with her.

“Please” Lydia gulped “It’s a two hours walk, I have an hour and a half” her pride hid in her pockets as she pleaded.

“Then you better run” Dave’s eyes were fixed on the road, his voice cold as ice.

Lydia looked frantically around the bus searching for some compassion, goodness but she didn’t find them. In the Ghetto everyone protected themselves, there was no place for empathy.

She knew it yet she hoped someone would react. At the front seat she spotted a woman she chatted with in the waiting room at the doctors.

She looked into the woman’s blue eyes sending a silent prayer. Like a mother to a mother.

The brown-haired woman turned her head to the other side brushing off Lydia’s inaudible begging.

The strawberry felt nauseous, fear spreading through her.

Another glance at the watch and she was reminded there was no time for weakness.

She send Dave one last look before leaving the bus on weak legs.

Her body was trembling, her heart pounding, hot tears springing into her eyes. She put one shaking hand on her stomach, letting one drop of water slid down her cheek.

“Hold on tight sweetie” her whisper barely audible.

She took a deep breath and then she started running.

                                                                                                                                      ***  
“Hey!” a scream tore out from her throat when another truck drove past her. It didn’t stop.

She never stopped racing as her eyes caught a glimpse of the clock on her hand. There were thirty minutes left.

Lydia felt her lungs shrinking dramatically, sobs building inside of her. Her feet grazed and bleeding, her thighs burning. Her body was giving up on her. But she kept running. She had to.

                                                                                                                                      ***

Jordan looked down at his arm making sure the sleeve was covering the gleaming digits. Since the morning only two people knew about the new numbers on his clock. Derek, because he gave him ten years for the years of their friendship and Derek’s wife Braeden because Jordan bought a bouquet of pinks for Lydia at her flower shop. His task was making sure those two were the only people who knew because the more people knew the higher was the risk he and Lydia weren’t going to escape Dayton. It wasn’t a risk he was willing to take.

Jordan waited impatiently for the bus to arrive, his brain working on full cylinders. He still hadn’t figured out a way to tell Lydia about Henry Hamilton and the time he’d received from him.

“Just tell her the truth” Jordan mumbled to himself when he spotted the red night coach at the end of the street.

The bus stop at its last station, the door opening with an unpleasant screech. People were getting out of the bus, he recognised some of them but he didn’t see the one person he was waiting for.

Something twitched inside of his chest when the vehicle was practically empty and the strawberry blonde he was in love with was still nowhere to be seen.

“Dave, where’s Lydia?” Jordan heard his question but the sound seemed somehow distant.

His palms twisted into fists as he watched Dave inhaling loudly. His entire body tensed preparing for the driver’s words.

“She didn’t have enough time so she had to walk”

Rage, worry, confusion, sadness, pain.

Jordan fell all of it.

He wanted to kill Dave, with his bare hands but there was no time for vengeance.

He had to find Lydia.

Without thinking about it twice Jordan raced off the bus stop.

He had to make it in time to save her.

                                                                                                                                    ***  
Lydia was exhausted.

She looked down and her hand, her eyes having problems with making out the green numbers through the grey fog she was seeing.

10 minutes.

She had only ten minutes left.

Her body had given up on her a long time ago but for the first time Lydia felt like she was giving up too.

Her bleeding feet hurt so much she whimpered with every step, her tights were so tensed she feared she’d fall down all of sudden.

She cried out at her own helplessness.

She had to fight.

She had to fight for them.

But god, she was so exhausted.

                                                                                                                                   ***

Jordan kept running, his legs working faster than ever, his lungs expanding and shrinking at a furious pace. One thought kept pushing him. She was out there, alone with little time left. He had to get to her before…

No.

There was no before.

He just had to get to her.

                                                                                                                                   ***

She almost gave up to the pain letting her body hit the ground but she saw something. A silhouette in the distance. The shape was moving.

Lydia squinted her eyes, focusing her sight on the dim profile.

It looked like…

“Jordan!”

A shout, so desperate and so full of pain, came out of her throat.

She thought she was delusional, there was no way it could be him.

But soon there came an answer.

A shout as desperate as the one torn from her throat.

It was her name.

The familiar voice helped her discover resources of energy she had no idea she still had. They weren’t big but she hoped they were enough to get her to Jordan, to get them to Jordan.

                                                                                                                                   ***

“Lydia!”

His heart clenched when he saw her running towards him.

He run even faster now that he saw she was still alive.

“Jordan!” he heard her scream when there were only meters separating them.

He threw out the bouquet of pinks preparing his hand to give her the time she needed.

She was almost there. He could see the relief on her face, the sweat glistening on her forehead. Jordan extended his arms, ready to catch her.

“Lydia!”

He caught her just in time.

Their hands locked, her tiny frame was pressed to his bigger one as they fell down to the ground both overwhelmed by the hit.

He leaned down and touched her forehead with his, his heart in his throat.

“God, I love you” Jordan whispered, his hitched breath dusted over Lydia’s forehead. He brought her closer to his chest, cradling her in his arms breathing her in.

He waited for her to answer.

First two seconds.

Then four.

Then five.

But the answer hadn’t come.

Jordan glanced down at the girl in his arms, sweeping the cascade of strawberry blonde away from her face.

That’s when he noticed.

She was stiff.

Too stiff.

Jordan glanced down at Lydia’s arm terror filling him.

With a gasp of agony his warm mouth opened “No, no…” he whispered, the whisper quickly turning into a scream when he saw the digits on Lydia’s skin.

They weren’t gleaming.

They weren’t green.

They were all black.

Black zeros.

“Lydia, wake up” Jordan shook Lydia’s body, immediately stopping when he realized she was like a puppet in his arms “Wake up” He whimpered this time.

But it was quiet.

With silence came realization.

He didn’t make it.

He didn’t make it in time.

Jordan felt his soul being torn out of his body, his hand bending over the body in his arms, his warm tears sliding down his cheeks and falling to the ground.

The pain he was feeling, so fierce it affected him physically. He couldn’t breath, he couldn’t move. All he do was hold her. So he did.

He didn’t know how much time they, no how much time he spent there, with Lydia in his arms, with tears draining his eyes.

Somehow through swallowing black saliva and choking back hiccups he noticed something peeking from Lydia’s clenched fist.

With a trembling hand he caught her small fingers, ignoring how cold they were, unclasping them.

It was a piece of paper.

Jordan took it out, unfolding it.

And when he unfolded it his world broke into another million pieces.

It was a USG photo.

Taken today.

Jordan cried out, a heartbreaking sound filling the air. His throat burned but he kept screaming his soul out.

Screaming was all he had left.

He lost the woman he loved.

He lost his Lydia.

He lost their unborn baby.

All he had now were screams.

Screams and time.

He didn’t want any of it.

He wanted her back.

He just wanted his Lydia back.


End file.
